


Peace and Prosperity

by orphan_account



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 1939-1941, AroAce!Merlin, Blind!Harry, Kingsman is actually a tailors, Letters, M/M, Other, Some angst, World War II, mostly sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mail was indispensable. It motivated us. We couldn’t have won the war without it.”</p><p>WWII AU. A series of letters passed across the front line between 1939 and the beginning of 1942, relating to the private matters of Corporal Gary Unwin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace and Prosperity

* * *

_September 4th, 1939_

Dear Major Hart and Wing Commander Emrys,

Please accept this letter as notice of my resignation from the position of Store Clerk at Kingsman Tailors.

I’ve not made this decision lightly - I’m forever in your debt for taking on someone with my background. But the climate in London has changed - we all know war is coming, and as a result I have enlisted with the Army, and will be leaving for the front come the end of March.

As stated in my contract, I’ll work for the next two weeks, completing my tenure on September 16th. If there’s anything you particularly want me to complete before I leave, let me know.

Thank you for all the opportunities you’ve given me during my time here. I owe a great deal to you both, and hope the business stands its ground during these tough times.

Yours sincerely,

Private Gary Unwin

* * *

_September 7th, 1939_

Dear Private Unwin,

It is with great regret we accept your resignation from your position as Store Clerk. We appreciate the early notice and your commitment to smoothly hand over your duties. As per the company’s policies and our agreement, your last working day will be September 16th.

Good luck with your future plans,

Major Hart and Wing Commander Emrys

Kingsman Tailors

* * *

_September 16th, 1939_

Eggsy,

This is a personal note from myself and Emrys just to wish you luck on your endeavors. We both know the feeling of needing to enlist in the army, both being ex-servicemen ourselves. I enlisted at the start of the Great War when I was the same age as you (and Emrys a little younger, before he transferred to the RAF) - a fact that shows just how old both of us are. But in all sincerity, do feel free to send us a letter from time to time. Or at least send a letter to me - Emrys will need to read whatever you write aloud to me anyway, but he’s a man of few words, and a rather more utilitarian letter writer than I am. Even when I was blinded, having letters from family read out for me was comforting. War is a messy business - anyone who tells you they’re not terrified is a liar. We consider ourselves friends of yours, given that we have worked and at one point boarded together for over two years - please do not hesitate to get in touch with us. We would love to know how you are doing.

All the best,

Harry

* * *

 

_September 23rd, 1939_

Harry,

If I admit that I might be the tiniest bit worried, I’m trusting it to not go any further than this letter. Because I’m not that worried. Not in the screaming and running away sense, anyway. Ryan’s coming with me, and that makes it a bit better. Jamal’s gone to see the recruitment agency to see if he can enlist, so we might see a bit of him around.

I know that the people around me are worried - you two are, I can tell. Mum hasn’t stopped looking as if she’s about to burst into tears since I told her. She never got over Dad dying in the army, and keeps telling me that he’d want me out of there. Or it might be because Dean’s been filling her head with horror stories (he’s not enlisted - claims he’s a ‘conscientious objector’, though the way he treats Mum says something different). And I’m worried about them - how will Mum cope looking after Daisy and Dean? She’s asked me to send letters, but what if they get intercepted? What if she, or you, get hurt cause of it?

It’s just a bit of the great unknown, isn’t it? You’re always a bit worried when you’re stepping into somewhere you’ve never been. And no-one really wants to go to war. The pay’s not good and someone’s aiming for your head half the time. But you’ve got to fight for what you think is right, right?

Eggsy

* * *

 

_October 1st, 1939_

Eggsy,

Mum’s the word - we won’t tell a soul.

I wish I could say something to soothe your worries, but there isn’t much to say. The front is bloody and explosive, and after a while you get used to seeing a dead body or ten. I hope they don’t try trench warfare again, because trench foot and lice are nasty businesses. At some point you’ll be cold, wet and tired of being shot at, but you’ll be expected to keep on going. There’s nothing glamorous about army work, but trust me when I say you’ll meet some of the finest people there. I met Emrys in the trenches, and you can see how we turned out. And I knew your father personally - as you know, he saved my life. I’m sure your father will be incredibly proud of you, and would support your choice.

If you worry about letters being intercepted, there is the option of using a monkier, or a nickname. Emrys and I used them for some time when I was invalided out of the war, before I became blind. He was Merlin and I was Arthur. Emrys (or Merlin as I still often call him) is in touch with a protege of his who is now in the RAF - he refers to her as Lancelot.

In-keeping with Arthurian tradition, perhaps you could be our Galahad?

Harry

* * *

_October 9th, 1939_

Harry (or Arthur - I’d best get used to writing that during training),

The nicknames are a great idea! But ‘Merlin’, Emrys? Just a tad predictable. I mentioned it to Mum, and she thought I was being too much of a worry wart. I guess her nickname will just have to just be “Mum”. I’m glad you think Dad would approve - it makes things easier to handle.

If you don’t mind, I’ll continue writing to you - could use a taste of home out here on the camp. I’ve only just arrived - can’t say exactly where, but I can say were in a place that is completely unpronounceable. And it’s not stopped raining since we’ve gotten here. According to our unit’s captain, we’ll be training rain or shine, and by the looks of it it’ll be more rain than shine. But that’s not the worst part - worse still, Dean’s boy Rottweiler and his mates are in my unit - seems his old pal couldn’t worm them out of conscription. You remember Rottweiler - Merlin had to carry him out of the shop one time when he came looking for trouble. There are a couple of other boys here too. There are a couple of public school boys who look like they’ve never had no-one but their butlers iron their panties for them. But there’s a few likeable characters - Ryan’s with me, and Hugo's a good sort. Nathaniel’s alright too.

Eggsy (Galahad)

* * *

_October 18th, 1939_

Galahad,

We’d be glad to keep in correspondence with you during your time - I remember how morale boosting letters and gifts from the front were during my time in the Army. And as we’ve said before, we are both genuinely interested in what you are doing these days. Let us know of anything that’s happening and what you’re learning out in training. Merlin’s already guessed where you are - he’s been there before. I wonder if it’s any similar to what we faced all those years ago...

We thought we should let you know we’ve closed the shop for the time being. Merlin says he’s got a sixth sense for spotting troubled times ahead, but even I can see selling bespoke suits in a war period isn’t best financial practice. To be honest, employing a blind tailor like myself was probably not best practice either, but we'll let that slide. We’re moving out to our summer house soon - it’s out in a small village, about an hour’s train ride from London. I suppose it’s going to take some time to get used to village life after the hustle and bustle of London, but Merlin’s looking forward to it - there’s a lovely tennis court there, where he can brush up his skills against the locals. He’s also applied to do some work with the Army on the home front - he’s unfortunately too old to join the front line, but they’ll probably find him something to do up there.

Write soon,

Harry

* * *

_November 29th, 1939_

Arthur,

I’m so sorry for the long wait between this letter and the last - I had my mail rights revoked for a month. May have started a fight with Rottweiler - in my defence, he stole my letters, insulted you and “accidentally” gave Hugo a black eye. I didn’t rough him up too badly, but we both got revoked rights and extra duties. Our captain made us grab buckets and pick twelve hundred blades of grass too - my back was aching by the time I got back to the barracks. It was worth it though - Hugo gave me some sweets from home as thanks.

We’ve started training with our rifles and our revolvers. All the public school boys are crack shots with their rifles - apparently they all went hunting as boys, and got the practice in. Ryan’s not too bad, and one of Rottwieler’s mates is alright. I'm near the top of the weapons scores, but I think I need get some more practice in - if this war has to be won on the backs of us, we need better aim than a few millimetres above the target’s left ear. We’re also being taught “ceremonial guard-mounting” - hell knows what use spinning a rifle is against the Germans, unless we’ll be able to confuse them with a well executed arms drill. Nathaniel managed to throw his rifle over his shoulder by mistake when we were practicing in the night - he and Hugo had to share a rifle during morning inspection so that he wouldn’t get into trouble.

Galahad

* * *

 

_December 17th, 1939_

Galahad,

It warms my heart that you were fighting for mine and Merlin’s and Private Hugo’s honour, but please try and be more careful. We’re not going to win a war by infighting.

We’ve settled into the summer house quite nicely now. Some of the electrics had to be fixed up, and the kitchen needed a clean, but otherwise it was relatively simple. The neighbours came around to welcome us back to the village - Miss Tilde from the Women’s institute came around with a lovely Christmas cake as a gift. Merlin’s also been getting into the Christmas spirit - there’s a permanent scent of gingerbread in the air, and he went along with Professor Arnold next door to locate a Christmas tree only the other day. We’ve been decorating it all afternoon - well, I say decorating, more like me taking things from the box, identifying them by touch, and Merlin finding a branch for me to hang them on.

Your stories from training remind me of when I was a private. I shared a unit with Merlin, and our drill sergeant was quite the taskmaster. Our first night there he woke us all up by pouring iced water from the local river over our heads, and he did that at least once a week every week until we could all get out of bed, slide into our boots and give an acceptable salute. There was also quite a memorable exercise we had to do, which I hear is still occuring  Given that it’s winter, it should be around time for it to happen  I’ll leave that part of training up for you to discover.

I guess that since you’re in training, you won’t get leave to go home for Christmas - your Christmas gift from us is enclosed.

A very merry Christmas,

Arthur

_(Note from Merlin: Merry Christmas, Galahad. Enjoy the Black Mountains.)_

* * *

 

_January 15th. 1940_

Arthur,

I originally started this letter thinking you and Merlin were thinking of a different camp. But Merlin weren’t referring to camp, was he? I didn’t think his geography was that bad, and I suspected he was talking about something else right up until the training task you were expecting showed up.

They dropped our platoon completely naked in the middle of the Black Mountains and told us to find our way back to camp! Naked! In January! There was still frost on the ground! We didn’t even know we were _in_ the Black Mountains until we came across a local farmer. And let me tell you, he was not best impressed to find a squadron of naked soldiers marching through his sheep fields. He didn’t even give us boxers before kicking us off his land. I tell you, the look on the camps face when we returned was a sight to see - apparently all the other units managed to find clothes before getting back, so to see twelve recruits streaking through camp must’ve been pretty funny. I would say I wish you had told me, but I don’t think I would’ve believed you if you had.

Thank you very much for the Christmas gift, by the way. The watch is wonderful, and Rottweiler’s already tried to steal the gingerbread. We had Christmas dinner with all the trimmings on Christmas day, but no day off from training. Most of the units here are travelling out to the depots come next week. Our units staying on so we can complete driver training. Can you imagine - me, in a tank! This is going to be good.

A very belated and disgruntled merry Christmas to you too,

Galahad

* * *

 

_February 23rd, 1940_

Galahad,

We debated telling you, but we didn’t think you’d learn much if you knew what was coming so we didn’t. Plus Merlin has a mean streak and delights in teasing you. Good luck with the next part of your training - I was never a tank driver myself, but Merlin tells me it’s not so different from driving an aeroplane on the ground. Which isn’t much comfort since you can’t drive one of those either.

We must thank you for the kind gifts you sent us - the gloves you send me are incredibly comfortable, and I don’t believe Merlin has stopped wearing the hat you’ve got him. It’s gotten pretty cold here over the last few weeks, but the weatherman on the radio says it’ll soon warm up. Miss Tilde and the Women’s Institute have been making and collecting throw blankets all winter, and Merlin’s been out with the local farmers getting firewood from the nearby forest for the rest of the town. I can’t help but remember the time last Christmas when you were wrapped up in a throw, and so comfortable in front of the Kingsman fire you fell asleep playing Monopoly with us.

Arthur

* * *

 

_March 27th, 1940_

Arthur,

I regret complaining about the arms drills. We’ve spent the last few weeks training without our rifles, and let me tell you I feel more naked than when we were abandoned in the Black Mountains. Driving a tank is a completely different experience to our previous training - it’s a lot harder, but much more fun. I’m far better at driving one of these vehicles than I am at firing a rifle, much to the disgust of much of the unit. There’s a massive tank transporter here too - no-one has yet driven it willingly. Knowing my luck, I’ll be stuck with that thing for my test!

We’ve had our deployment date - 16th of April. No idea where we’re going, and we won’t know what we’re doing until we hit the ground. But finally we’ll be able to do some good for the country! I’ll send a letter as soon as I can.

Goodbye for now,

Galahad

P.S: I remember that Christmas. Didn’t you and Merlin steal all my property, then pretended I sold them to you?

* * *

 

_April 21st, 1940_

Dear Arthur,

It has only been a week and I miss you all something horrible.

You weren’t lying when you said the conditions were rotten - I don’t think there’s been a dry day since we landed. Can’t say exactly where we are, but trust me when I say it’s the wettest place I’ve ever been to, and I trained in Wales in the springtime. We’re camping out in the leakiest, smelliest barn in the entire country, I swear - there’s barely a patch of floor that’s not being dripped on or that’s not stained with something disgusting.

We passed a field of sunflowers a little while back - it was beautiful until our tanks drove over it. Hugo looked as if Christmas was cancelled. But it’s not all bad. Our commanding officer’s pretty easy going for a Captain, and as long as we’ve polished our guns and boots, he don’t care much for what we do. We got to play poker before lights out - Hugo’s nan sent him sweets, and we’ve been betting with those.

He’s shown me a picture of her too - looks like a proper headmistress, she does. Some of the boys have photos of their wives or girlfriends in their tobacco cases, or families or pin-up girls if they’re single. It would be grand to have a photo of you two stuck in my pocket, along with my photographs of Mum and Daisy, but there will probably be a ton of questions about them. Then again, I’ve never backed down from questions before...

Maybe I can pass you two off as my grandparents?

Galahad

* * *

 

_May 14th, 1940_

Galahad,

Merlin took great offence at your suggestion, and gave me the cold shoulder all weekend because I found it rather humourous. After much apologizing, Merlin has finally forgiven me enough to pen this letter to you. However, I do feel  that I’m not out of the doghouse yet - I cannot find the tea, and Merlin is being remarkably tight lipped about its location. He probably finds it rather funny to watch me wander around sniffing unknown boxes trying to find it.

_(Note from Merlin: I do. It’s in the breadbox.)_

In terms of the last part of your letter, Merlin has located a camera in his armoury of electronics up in the attic. The bombs from the _Luftwaffe_ seem to have missed the armoury entirely, so it’s in good working order. Merlin’s been taking photographs of me all week with it, and even took it up to London to get a few more recent shots of Miss Daisy and your mother. I believe your mother also took a few of Merlin since he was unwilling to take photos of himself. A few of the better shots are in the envelope - hopefully that will help ease the homesickness.

Arthur

* * *

 

_May 30th_

Arthur,

Harsh punishment, Merlin. I’m very sorry if I offended you. Please give Harry his tea back - you know how grouchy he gets without his cup of Earl Grey in the morning. I think it’s an army thing, grouchy until tea - it’s certainly true in this camp. Tea’s the only good thing we’ve got in our rations, and we all look forward for enough of a break in the gunfire to get a cuppa. One of the posh boys - Digby, I think his name is - got Horlicks from his girl back home. The boys are all very jealous, but rumour has it he’ll give you some if you take his patrols.

Thanks for the photos - they make me feel much better for being so far away from home. Daisy’s grown so big since I last saw her - give her my love! We’ll be moving on from this place soon enough. Which is kind of a pity - I’ve really started to like this barn. But orders are orders. The captain wants us moving out come first light - pretty harsh on the boys who’ve been out with the local women all night. But I suppose they can’t complain - at least the captain’s not making us go on a night raid.

Onwards and upwards, I imagine.

Galahad

* * *

 

_June 10th,_

Arthur,

We’re back in the leaky barn again. Didn’t make much ground as we thought we did. Haven’t got much time to write – we’re on the move almost constantly now. There’s rumours around that we’ll be taking leave early. See you soon?

Galahad

* * *

 

_June 23rd, 1940_

Dear Eggsy,

Merlin informs me of your arrival back home. He spotted the  _Arandora Star_ in the dock on his most recent sojourn to London – he waited around until he saw that you were safely in the arms of your mother, before taking the next train home and reporting everything to me. I hope you are well – Merlin did not see any major wounds on your person, but we both know that it’s not physical injury that’s the major worry when it comes to war.  It is normally taboo to talk about such topics, but let it be known that Merlin and I will not think any less of you if there is anything you wish to discuss.

Our door (and our letterbox) is always open to you.

Harry

* * *

 

_July 6th, 1940_

Harry,

Your Merlin has a good eye, and you both are very insightful. The past few days between my last letter and this one have been hard, and that’s putting it mildly.

As you’ve probably heard on the radio, we were all evacuated from the front last week. The Bosch didn’t let us go without a fight – there was a hell of a lot of shellfire, and our own officers forced us all to stand in the water for hours on end until the ships could pick us up. We didn’t come out of it unscathed - Rottweiler’s gone into some kind of shock, and has ended up on medical leave – hypothermia from the sea waters, the doctors say. One of the public school boys, Charlie, was shot in the hip, and Hugo was blown apart by shell fire, and was practically strawberry jam on the stretcher. Nathaniel said he’d let me know what happens, but no-one has high hopes for him.

Dean’s been insufferable since Rottweiler’s injury. It seems he’s picked up a drinking habit since I left the house, and since Rottweiler got hurt, it’s pretty rare to see him in any state other than drunk. Mum’s been going spare trying to juggle him and Daisy. I’ve taken Daisy off Mum’s hands for the rest of my leave. We’re living in the old Kingsman flat - I hope that’s alright with you, I didn’t have the chance to ask before we left, and we didn’t really have much of a choice where to go. But we’re doing alright – Mum comes around sometimes, and I’ve got enough savings to keep us both fed.

As much as I would love to visit you two, I can’t leave Daisy in Dean’s hands until he’s fixed himself up. I hope you understand.

Eggsy

* * *

 

_July 14th, 1940_

Eggsy,

It seems you’ve been through quite the wringer, dear boy. Our hopes are with your friends for a speedy recovery, and you know you will always have our support – the Kingsman flat is yours until you no longer have need of it. I would like to make you aware that both Merlin and I are more than happy to accommodate you and your sister in the summer house – it’s safer than the flat, there’s plenty of room and both Merlin and myself are rather fond of children. Don’t think of this as an act of charity – I know how much you despise them, as you know I – but as a show of solidarity.

I know it might not be much comfort to you right now, but I can relate somewhat. You know that your father and I were the closest of friends before his untimely death. He was in the position of your dear friend Hugo, and I was in yours, waiting anxiously for any scrap of news of his whereabouts. It wasn’t until I myself was sent home that I discovered that he had died. I was wracked with so much pain and turmoil after his death – if Merlin hadn’t begun writing letters, and the nurses not read them out for me, I do not know what would’ve become of me. A bullet to the head, most probably.

Do not let it get to that stage for you, Eggsy. Please do not hesitate to telegram should the worst news be delivered.

Harry

* * *

 

Telegram from _Private Gary Unwin_ to _Major Harry Hart_ , dated _July 18th, 1940_ :

HUGO IS DEAD **STOP** PLEASE VISIT IF YOU HAVE TIME **STOP**

* * *

_July 19th, 1940_

Harry,

I’ve slipped this letter into Merlin’s coat instead of sending it because I’m not sure I can trust the letter not to be intercepted in normal post. I wanted to thank you for coming up to the Kingsman flat as soon as you did to make sure I was alright, and for insisting that both Daisy and I came and stayed with you in the summer house for the rest of my leave. You suggested I wrote down my thoughts to make sense of them - I’ve decided to put them in this letter. I think both you and Merlin deserve an explanation for the way I was acting yesterday.

Hugo was one of my closest friends on the front. And he was the first person to know that I was queer. He guessed it, really. And when word came out that someone in the platoon was a nancy boy, Hugo covered for me and made it so the other men thought it was him. The public school boys weren’t all too bothered - apparently it’s a normal thing for them - but Rottweiler and his mates were on his back about it until the day he died. Rottweiler also reported it to our Captain - the captain was going to let it slide, but Rottweiler insisted on going higher up when he did. From what the Captain has told me, it doesn’t look like Hugo will be getting any of his posthumous medals anytime soon.

I feel incredibly guilty about it all. Because, in essence, it is my fault that Hugo won’t be recognised for all he did in the war. His parents and siblings won’t have a medal to remind them of him because I was too cowardly to face up to parts of myself. I can’t forgive myself for disgracing one of my closest comrades. He should be honoured, and because of my lack of spine, Westminster won’t even honour his memory.

I don’t expect a reply to this letter. But I hope you do not think any less of me for the revelations in this letter. I had already guessed there may be a romantic link between you and Merlin (either that or Merlin has become extremely adept at sleeping in a bed without disturbing the inch of dust collected on it) which made it much easier to write this letter - you may have some inkling of what’s going through my head.

See you next week,

Eggsy

* * *

_July 21st, 1940_

My dear Eggsy,

I should like to start this letter by saying how glad we are that you feel we are trustworthy enough for you to speak to us about this. We do not view you as a lesser man because you are queer – in fact, we feel you are far braver than many men for accepting this facet of your personality. Let me tell you, what I see when I look at you and read your letters is a man with potential, a man who is loyal, and a far better man than most people I know.

You make a small misunderstanding I feel I should correct. Although Merlin and I are as close as lovers are, and share a house and a bed as you’ve noticed, we are not lovers in the strictest sense – Merlin has no romantic inclination, whereas I am of the same inclination as Private Hugo. But you see, there are not many people who would become involved with a blind war veteran (Merlin is frowning at me over the paper and is shaking his head, but it’s true). If there were to become someone interested in me in a romantic sense, they would have to accept Merlin as part and package. He is one of the most important figures in my life – I will not give him up easily.

But it stands the same – you are not at fault for what has happened to Hugo. He chose to cover for you, and there would’ve been nothing you could’ve done to stop what has happened. The fact that they are considering not giving Hugo his war medals for this indiscretion is, quite frankly, facetious and narrow-minded. But I fear I cannot say more in this letter due to legal ramifications – you were right to send your last missive with Merlin. The walls have ears, and there is no guarantee that dear old Westminster does not have one of its many fingers in internal country mail. We’ll discuss it more when you come to stay, if you’d like – we’ll have plenty of time.

Merlin’s been looking forward to your arrival – he’s not had a good tennis partner for a while. I hope you’re feeling fit.

With fondest thoughts,

Harry

* * *

 

_September 10th, 1940_

Galahad,

You should be settled into active duty now – your stay with us was an immense pleasure, and I will not forget it. I think Merlin was incredibly taken with Miss Daisy - I think he would’ve kept her here had you both not had to return to London to your mother. Meeting with your unit was most welcome - although it’s a shame Private Rottweiler couldn’t be there for a happy reunion. Merlin says he saw him, but he scarpered before saying hello.

Much has transpired since your stay. You’ve probably had a letter from your mother discussing this, but I think it bears mentioning. She has realised the danger she is in. She has not left Mr Dean, you’ll be sorry to hear, but she has sent young Miss Daisy away from central London. Miss Daisy has become an evacuee, and will be moving in with us next week for the foreseeable future. I cannot tell you how glad I am - how glad _we_ are – to have the opportunity to look after a child, especially one as rambunctious as your sister. We’ve heard from your mother that Daisy is beside herself with excitement – she cannot wait to return to the “holiday house” and visit the local animals.

Since you left, the town mayor has decided to dig up the tennis courts. They’ll be replaced with allotments – part of the “Dig for Victory” campaign that Mr Middleton from the radio has been spearheading. Merlin is heartbroken = he’s never been a fan of vegetable growing, nor gardening in general, and he’d rather admire a garden of dahlias than dig up row upon row  of onions. I think we all would rather that, but nevertheless I think it’s a splendid idea. I’ve managed to convince him to let me transform our garden into a Victory Garden – on the condition that I am the one to tend to it, and that I do not touch the strawberry plants nor the rose bushes. We’ve spent the afternoon setting it up – Merlin directing where my hands should go, and I with a shovel and a fork, digging up the turf.  It will be something grand to behold – I hope you’ll see it when you come back on leave next.

Awaiting your reply,

Arthur

* * *

 

_September 24th, 1940_

Arthur,

I wouldn’t call it active - we’re on anti-invasion duties, which doesn’t involve much other than regular patrols and firing some anti-aircraft missiles during the night. We do some marches through the nearby villages - the villagers seem to be happy to see us, and always give us home made cakes and food. The other boys are pretty enamoured of the young women who live here too - I don’t think there’s been a night where there hasn’t been a lady joining us for cards or other games.

But on a more serious note, I need your advice on a crewmate. It’s Rottweiler. We don’t get on at the best of times, but there’s something rather worrying about his behaviour recently. Since being on sick leave, he’s been far more sour than usual. His temperament is much worse, and not even his old mates are really speaking to him much anymore. Charlie claims he’s threatened him with his revolver once already, and both Ryan and I have borne the brunt of his rather rapid mood swings. I would report him to the Captain, but his mates are still backing him up, and I know that if Rottweiler gets booted from the army on my watch, Dean will never let me see Mum again. And that’ll put Mum in even more danger than she is now. I have no idea what to do - he’s going rogue, but mentioning that to anyone might mean I’ll put my unit and my family in jeopardy.

Thoughts?

Galahad

* * *

 

 _October 1st_ , _1940_

Galahad,

It was a rogue crewmate that took my sight. I was in hospital, and all set to return to the front within weeks. I had written to Merlin to let him know I was to arrive back any day, and the mood in the ward was very joyous. However, one of my regiment was in the bed on the opposite side of the ward – a Captain Valentine. He had only recently recovered from malaria, and although he spoke and laughed and acted like any man should, there was something distinctly off about him. He would go into sudden silent moods for hours on end, and nothing would bring him out of it except waiting. He had a certain look in his eye whenever he looked at me, and although I put it down to paranoia at the time, it was still unnerving – that look was never directed at anyone else on the ward.

He struck just as the nurses returned my uniform to me. Valentine was in one of his silent moods, but as soon as a nurse passed with my coat and my revolver, he leapt to the end of the bed shouting about “how we’re all done for anyway”, drew the revolver from my coat and managed to fire a shot straight at my head before the nurses and fellow invalided soldiers could wrest control of the gun. Your father jumped in front of the bullet, and it passed through his shoulder before it hit me. As you know, I ended up blinded in one eye and almost entirely blind in the other instead, and your father ended up dying because of it.

Do not hesitate to do what is necessary to keep you and your regiment safe. Tell your captain as soon as you get this message, and keep an eye on him.

Arthur

* * *

 

_October 8th, 1940_

Dear Galahad,

I feel I must apologize for the tone set in my last letter. It came across much more aggressively than I meant it, and for that I am deeply sorry. I hope you understand that both Merlin and I have not had the best experiences with liable crewmates, and neither of us want what happened to me to happen to you. We were (and still are) worried for your safety, but I admit we could’ve worded our last missive a little better.

On the home front, Daisy has settled in just fine. She helps me in the garden sometimes, planting and pulling up the weeds, getting incredibly muddy at the same time. Merlin is at wits end keeping up with all the extra laundry, but I know he likes to see her happy. He took her down to meet Lady Tilde, and they both fell in love with her pug dogs. One of them is pregnant - the lady’s very kindly offered to give us one of the pups for free. Perhaps you’d like to name it?

Yours,

Arthur

* * *

 

_October 22nd, 1940_

Arthur,

I forgive you. Both of you. I did as you said, and spoke to the commanding officer. Rottweiler evidently guessed it was me who had reported his behaviour, and came into the building threatening to blow us all to kingdom come. There was a bit of a standoff between him and the rest of the unit. I had to shoot him dead.

I’m not sure if I will face charges due to the circumstances. All I’ve been told is that I’m being transferred to a different division.

Galahad

P.S. Before I left, I asked one of the Yankee boys what they would call a dog. One of them said Jack Benny, after the actor, so that’s the name I’m going with.

* * *

 

_November 3rd, 1940_

Galahad,

I am truly sorry that the situation escalated to that level. I know and I trust that you did what was right in the circumstances. I know you well enough that I can tell you feel guilty over it, but please believe me when I say that you did nothing wrong. If you had not shot Private Rottweiler, Private Rottweiler would’ve shot you. And I will not get behind an action that could’ve seen you killed.

Back to home matters. Merlin’s rather a fan of Jack Benny, and was all for your crewmates suggestion, but it seems Little Daisy has other ideas. The American troops marched through our village recently, and we took Daisy out to the gate so she could see them. Miss Daisy was quite enthralled by their presence - especially when they started throwing sweets for her to catch. She now will not budge on the name “Jellybean”, so we’re compromising and going with JB.

Our new pup really is quite sociable, but very gentle - Merlin tells me that there isn’t a night that goes by where the pup is not by the side of Miss Daisy’s cot. It seems he is also quite perceptive - it only took a week for him to figure out my disfigurement, and he now barks and noses at my ankles whenever he wants me to follow him somewhere. Merlin says we’ll make a guide dog of him yet.

Wishing you all the best out there,

Arthur

* * *

 

_November 26th, 1940_

Arthur,

I wish you wouldn’t call it a disfigurement - you are as handsome as any other man, even if you can’t see it in a mirror. I’m certain Merlin will say the same - you should ask him sometime. JB sounds like a good name for a dog - can’t wait to meet the dog once I come home. Should be able to get leave in a few months, but will tell you more once I know more. I don’t suppose Dean will be too happy with me returning to stay with Mum after what happened with Rottweiler - I don’t suppose it’ll be too much of a bother to stay with you again?

I’ve just touched down in Northern Africa. It’s mostly dirt and sand here, and what little greenery there is has had massive holes blown in it. But the cities are beautiful in their own way, the sandstone statues are awe-inspiring, and there’s a pervasive smell of spice in the air. Out of sheer dumb luck, I’ve been reassigned to work with Jamal’s division with the Desert Rats - you don’t know how much of a gift it was to find out the man’s alive and well.

The locals have been very kind to us, and have kept us fed and entertained. The marketplace here is immense - it’s bright and smells divine and is far more chaotic than London on farmers market day. I know it’s only November, but I’m sending your Christmas gifts early since I have the time, and I found these that suit you to a tee. We’ll be heading out to the borders soon enough, and then the real fighting will begin.

Galahad

* * *

 

_December 17th, 1940_

Galahad,

Those necklaces you found are exquisite - thank you very much for them. The pendant is ivory, right? Ivory and turquoise. Merlin’s been having me guess it by touch. He tells me it’s beautiful and it must’ve cost you a months wages - I’ll keep it safe, I promise. Miss Daisy is loving her new shawl - I’m not entirely sure whether she prefers to snuggle under it like a blanket or wear it as a cape .

At the moment she’s using it as a blanket - unfortunately she’s caught something and has spent the last few days in bed. The doctor says it’s just a bug that’s been going around, but that doesn’t make it any easier to handle. Merlin’s been sitting with her in the day whilst I sit with her in the night. She’s been a right trooper throughout it all, just like her big brother. It’s only the shakes in her leg and the temperature that are keeping her in bed now - she’s more than willing to go out into the garden and play with JB again.

You know you are always more than welcome here. As far as we’re concerned, this house is as much yours as it is ours. You’re welcome to stay anytime you wish.

Arthur

* * *

 

_January 11th,1941_

Arthur,

I just wanted to say a massive thank you for my new compass. My old one got sand all in the gears and doesn’t work properly. This one is lovely and new. And having my name engraved on it was a nice touch. By the time you read this, Daisy will probably be better, but give her a hug from her big brother for me? I hope she didn’t get too sick - thinking of all of you in this tough time.

Our unit’s currently holding the ground at the moment - the Italians have backed right off. Let me tell you, I don’t envy the Desert Rats. They’ve been ordered to chase those Italian forces through unchecked desert, and apparently it’s really hard going out there. We’re staying put at the moment, making sure they don’t come back for what they’ve lost. Which is good in the grand scheme of battle, but on the ground it’s incredibly boring. There’s nothing much to do but play cards and polish rifles, maybe read a book. I’ve already lost most of my tea ration to poker, so I suppose I’d better call it a night.

Galahad

* * *

 

_February 19th, 1941_

Dearest Galahad,

Spring has nearly arrived, and finally we can begin to see the fruits of our labour in our rather modest Victory Garden. We’ve a good crop this year - no frost has taken our crop, and the root vegetables are no longer frozen in the ground. All awfully domestic, you understand. Miss Tilde has very kindly taken some of our surplus off of our hands and will be distributing it to the local Women’s Institute for their families, whilst Merlin has been busy preserving enough vegetables to feed a small army.

Merlin is still rather disgruntled about the whole “digging up the tennis court for allotments” thing - I think the only gardening I’ve seen him do is when an incendiary bomb landed just over our garden wall, and he quickly picked it up and buried it in the old Professor’s rhubarb plantation. Professor Arnold was not amused to find his prized rhubarb blown apart and scattered across the road. But Merlin is rather taken with the bees, however - we’ve had a hive put in at the bottom of the garden since your last visit. Unfortunately it’s had to replace the rickety shed you so loved - as a token of apology, I’ve sent a package of Merlin’s finest honey biscuits. He’s rather proud of them.

Don’t eat them all at once,

Your Arthur

* * *

 

_March 7th, 1941_

Arthur,

I haven’t seen a dahlia in so long I’ve forgotten what they look like. I gave the locals some of Merlin’s biscuits - there are bees here, but honey’s an expensive rarity. I’m not surprised, seeing how little flowers there are left in this part of the world. They went down well - the locals wanted to send some spices and fruit back in thanks, but the officer said they couldn’t. You’ll have to make do with this scarves they’ve made you instead - they’re lovely and soft, and they’re good at keeping the sand out of your eyes. Not that you get much sand back home, but the thought’s there.

It looks like I’ll be moving again soon - orders from the highest want some of our troops to help out on the European front. Our captain tells me that I’m high on the list of people to transfer over because of “previous experience”. Beats me what he means by that. But I can’t say I’m not happy about going back to home territory - there’s only so much sand in your gun that you can handle before it gets your back up.

Galahad

* * *

 

_March 30th, 1941_

Arthur,

Would you believe it, they’ve transferred me back to my old brigade! It’s not the same - there are a lot of new faces. Nathaniel is still here, but Ryan’s been invalided out and doesn’t look to be joining us anytime soon. They’ve also given me a promotion - I’m a corporal now, which means a lot of privates under my command. Nathaniel hasn’t let me hear the end of it since I used my new powers to put him on mess duty. We’re on Greek territory, back in the land of the green. The brigade already here presented us with fresh bread baked themselves, with a little help from the locals. The men that transferred with me have been eating and lying out on the grass for hours now - I get the feeling they might’ve missed their home comforts.

We’ll be heading out the day after tomorrow to some other completely unpronounceable place. Looks like an age of constantly being on the move, so no idea if I’ll have time to write. Hopefully we’ll have enough breaks between shell fire to jot a few words down for both of you - I miss you both terribly, and those photos you sent me last spring are one of the few sources of comfort I have. Won’t have time to write, unfortunately - it looks pretty full on from here on in. Our captain has promised us leave as soon as this calms down - I hope to see you both again soon.

Galahad

* * *

 

_April 23th_

Galahad,

We have all heard over the wireless about the terrible tragedy that has befallen Greece. We have heard nothing from the authorities about your whereabouts, nor have we been told if you were successfully evacuated out of the area. I can only hope you at least out of harm's way, if not safe. Your mother has been writing to as many army officials as she can trying to find you, but we’ve heard nothing as of yet. Please write or telegram when you can - we’re all incredibly worried for your safety.

Arthur

* * *

 

_July 23rd, 1941_

Galahad,

It has been three months since your disappearance. I am not normally one bound to hysteria, but even I cannot deny that the hopes of seeing you once more are growing slim and fading fast. We are both incredibly worried - Merlin pretends not to be for my sake, but I know that he is. I can only hope that you are well, and that your continued silence is a sign that you are laying low, out of enemy range. Little Daisy worries too, and oft asks where her big brother is, but she is staying strong. She’s growing up to be a strapping young girl of five come July, and will be joining the local primary school this autumn. I only hope that you will be here soon to celebrate with us in this joyous occasion.

Stay safe,

Arthur

* * *

 

Telegram from _Private James Ryan_ to _Michelle Unwin,_ forwarded to _Major Harry Hart,_ dated _August 4th, 1941:_

YOUR SON IS SAFE **STOP** HE IS LOCATED AT CAMBRIDGE HOSPITAL **STOP** VICTORIA WARD **STOP** ROOM 116 **STOP** MAKE HASTE **STOP**

* * *

 

_August 6th, 1941_

My dearest Eggsy,

I feel I cannot stay silent on this matter any longer. Merlin, through his contacts at the hospital, managed to wrangle visiting rights for the both of us. We went up only a few days ago - you were asleep, but given the severity of your injuries I can understand. I may not be able to see, but there’s no way I can forget the feel of bandage against your hand, your chest… your face. The nurse assures us that your blindness will only be temporary, but I cannot deny the cold spell that passed through me when my hands felt the bandages on your eyes, and thought that such a darling boy as you could end up like me.

I have lived through one war already, and have lived without sight for nearly twenty five years - there is not much that frightens me now. And yet these past few months not knowing whether you were alive or dead instilled a kind of terror in me that I cannot describe in words. There was not a day that went by when I was not thinking of you, not a morning when I awoke and listened for the postman, wondering if today would be the day we’d received news. Merlin knows how I have not slept easy since we heard the loss of Greece to Axis power. I cannot hide how much I care for you anymore - not when it has finally hit home how close to death you were.

I long for you like a sailor longs for home waters. I forget the circumstance in which I realised this, but it seems that I always have done, ever since you stepped into Kingsman with your father’s medal in your palm and a favour on your lips. I was drawn to you, to your laugh that lit up even the darkest blackout, to your neverending loyalty that got you into a few scrapes, to the feel of your hand in mine. The intensity of what I feel for you makes me feel dwarfed in comparison, as if those intangible feelings could crush me at any moment. Merlin knows, of course, and he accepts it, even hopes that you feel the same. We both would be incredibly touched if you were to join our partnership.

I will not hold it against you if perhaps you would not be so interested in what I am offering, which is likely - I am older than you by far, and blinded, and scarred, and jaded, and- _(Note from Merlin: Harry has spent the last few minutes talking himself down. I’m not transcribing his words because what he is saying is, quite frankly, ridiculous.) But_ I hope that you will understand and accept my affection, even if you do not feel the same.

Always in my thoughts,

Harry

_(Note from Merlin: Eggsy, I may not be romantically inclined, but you have become one of the most important people in my life. I have seen how happy you have made Harry, and I know that my own feelings run deeper than that of merely friends. I would consider it a privilege to have you join our small family.)_

* * *

 

_18th August, 1941_

Harry,

Apologies for the late reply - the nurses have only just taken the bandages from my eyes. I only finished reading your letter this morning.

Did I ever tell you how the French girls swooned when they saw your photo? Or how they spent the next few days asking me to send a letter to you on their behalf? They were absolutely taken by the “puppy-haired English Major whose smile brightens the darkest days”.  You are not as unlovable as you make yourself out to be - you’re easy on the eyes, and in my past letters I’ve told you how handsome you are. You are also kind, you are polite, you are thoughtful, and sometimes you get angry and frustrated but that happens to the best of us. Many folk would throw their most prized possession in the Thames for just an afternoon with you= hell, I would throw everything I owned in there if it meant seeing your face again!

I can’t say how glad I am that you’ve told me this - I’ve fought Germans and Italians and Bulgarians, I’ve risked life and limb to rescue men in my unit, and yet I don’t think I would’ve ever have been brave enough to admit to you both that I feel the same way. I guess that makes me a coward in some circles. But knowing how you feel… I feel a lot lighter, and it’s a lot easier to talk about how much I care for you both.

I had always guessed my feelings for you were far deeper than what would be accepted. When the boys took whores home with them, or went with Hugo, I would read your last missive, dreaming of being with you and Merlin and Daisy and JB at the summer house. There was no switch on - I just gradually _knew_. I knew when you replied with the utmost fondness to one of my more personal confessions, I knew when your worry leaked into your words after Rottweiler went rogue, I knew when you offered my your home after Dean threw me out of mine. Ì knew when I became aware of you in the hospital, your hands on my face, Merlin’s white-knuckle grip on my hand, that hitch in your breathing as you realised what exactly had been done to me, and me lying there being too drugged up to give you a sign that I was awake, and yet wanting to wipe that sob from your lips, wanting to comfort you, wanting you to know that everything would be alright.

Of course I don’t know if everything’s going to be alright, but for you both I would move the sun and the stars to make sure it was. It sounds soppy- hell, this entire letter is soppy! But it’s true, and trust me when I say there is nothing that would make me happier than joining your family.

With love,

Eggsy

* * *

 

_October 18th, 1941_

Dearest Eggsy,

It’s been two months since you joined our family, and I can honestly say I have never been happier. I will never get enough of waking up beside the both of you on these cold mornings. There is nothing that gives me more warmth than hearing you and Merlin and Daisy and JB at play, and joining in when I can. I am truly the luckiest man in the world to have such wonderful partners, who can make me feel wanted. Even on my bad days when the eye injury aches and I cannot leave the bed, you both are always there with a cup of tea and company. I cannot thank you enough.

Your leave comes to an end soon. Your eyesight is patched up, all your bruises are gone, and you no longer walk with a limp. Soon enough you’ll get a telegram from your commanding officer giving you the date you’ll be returning to the front. I can’t say it gives me much joy to have you taken from me, but I know how proud you are of your work, and I take happiness from that. I know you’ll do good out on the battlefield, and keeping you here would be like caging a tiger. And the front is desperate for men - there are rumours around that the age limit on conscription will be lifted somewhat, meaning that many of the older men in this village will be going to war soon enough. Please know that I will always be thinking of you, and I am so proud of what you’ve achieved.

Harry

* * *

 

_November 26th, 1941_

My Harry,

We celebrated our three month anniversary not so long ago, and it still hurts whenever we’re separated. But you know I would not go unless something big has come up, and it has - Dean was killed in the blitz, and Mum is beside herself with grief. I can’t say how much it means to me that you are both so supportive and made sure I was ready to see Mum again after so long. I care so much for both of you that it’s a little scary, but it makes me feel so much better knowing that you both feel the same way.

I’ll probably be staying with her over Christmas, unless something major happens to you or Merlin or Daisy. Mum needs the company, I think. I’ve been looking forward to our first Christmas together for months, but I suppose there will be other Christmases to celebrate. I’ll be making turkey and all the trimmings for the both of us - Merlin’s taught me quite a bit about cooking since we’ve been together, so hopefully I won’t make too much of a pig’s ear of things. Talking of Merlin, get him to save some of his gingerbread for me, would you? I wouldn’t miss his biscuits for the world.

I’ll be back as soon as I can,

Love,

Eggsy

* * *

 

Telegram from _Major Harry Hart_ to _Corporal Gary Unwin,_ dated _December 5th_ :

MERLIN HAS BEEN CALLED UP BY THE ARMED FORCES **STOP** HE WILL BE ON THE FRONT LINE BY THE END OF THE MONTH **STOP** PLEASE COME HOME AT THE EARLIEST CONVENIENCE **STOP**

* * *

_December 25th, 1941_

Eggsy,

This will probably be my last missive to you - I do not trust anyone in this village to write my letters to you without question of impropriety. Both you and Merlin will be heading out early tomorrow morning, meaning you will probably be gone by the time I wake - an empty bed will take some time to get used to. Perhaps I’ll encourage JB to sleep on the bed when you are both gone. Merlin’s currently making sure his new uniform fits correctly - he says it’s so bulky he looks like a child trying on his father’s clothes, but I bet he looks as grand as you did when we saw you in your uniform.

My darling boys, I am so incredibly proud of both of you. I cannot express in words how much pride I have in both my men fighting for their country, even though that pride is tempered with the knowledge of what faces you out there. I can only hope that you both come home alive, if not in one piece. I know that both of you have been working around the clock trying to get at least one of you transferred so you can stay with me - yes, your secret conversations with Merlin on the telephone were not as secret as you thought. It’s a kind idea but unnecessary. I will be fine - I have Daisy, I have my dog, I have my garden, and I have no doubt of the affection you two hold for me.

Please know that although we may not be in contact, I will still love the both of you, and will be eagerly anticipating your return.

Forever yours,

Harry

* * *

 


End file.
